Our Last Dance
by Clea Person
Summary: The sound of fabric shifting and small whines filled the room together with a mix of fear and desire. Without even realizing, Yao was under the heavy, cold Russian on top of his large bed, small arms struggling to pull away, soft lips whining.


**Title:** Our Last Dance  
**Character(s) or Pairing(s):** Ivan Braginski x Wang Yao (RussiaxChina)  
** Rating:** Mature  
**Warnings:** Naked, rape, sex and violence  
**Notes:** This fan fiction is inspired in DreamlessxPassion's drawing 'Our Last Dance' The only Rochu drawing so far that took my breath away. .com/art/APH-Our-Last-Dance-162525580  
**Summary:** The sound of fabric shifting and small whines filled the room together with a mix of fear and desire. Without even realizing, Yao was under the heavy, cold Russian on top of his large bed, small arms struggling to pull away, soft lips whining for his freedom, yet the cold grasp of the Russian was too much for a fallen empire fight against.

Last Dance

"The Russians are coming today." A soft voice said while fixing the majestic bed's sheets, next to it there was a beauty table, where a very delicate man brushed his long ebony hair a hint of sadness in his eyes that didn't change even at the mention of the strangers in his house once again. Yes once again, he had them visiting a few days ago, where he got orders from his boss to satisfy any pleasure the men wanted. Anything. It cost him his pride, his body and almost his soul. The servant glanced at the sad man, regretting already the fact that she mentioned the Russians. She knew they were no good; they were destroying the land where she lived, together with the other westerns. Walking toward the man, she stands behind him, showing a small smile. "Should I brush your hair, master Yao?" the man took his eyes from the mirror in front of him and looked behind himself, looking toward the young woman. "Its fine, you can leave now… I need to be alone for a moment." He simply answered, he really had no patience for any kind of chit-chat about something he didn't like, abut something that haunted his dreams every night. He wanted to be alone and cry until there were no more tears before the mad western was back again in his life. With no more words exchanged she took a bow and left the room. When Yao was sure no one was on the other side of the door he stood up on his long feminine vests and walked toward the fixed bed, glancing down at it. From that point he didn't move any longer, he just glanced down at the silky clean sheets and the puffy pillows, the fabrics over it, how majestic, beautiful and comfortable it looked, but it was also a bed full of lies, fear and screams. Has he looked at the bed, he could almost see the forms of the Russian body that lay over him, using his body over and over again, tears were forming at the corner of his eyes as he remembered each second of that day.

When the Russians arrived Yao was sitting next to his emperor and lord, Puyi, once again in his delicate vests that made him look like a woman. Elegant and proud he stood, never gazing up at the presence he knew was there. Ivan Braginski, Imperial Russia, or any other name he was known has. Yes it's true the Asian should be thankful for the Russian's help, but that had cost him his pride and land, he would have to give away land to the other, work, and who know what else, in exchange of a small insignificant help. He wanted to hate him with all his strength, but every time he tried he saw a small little nation, with light eyes and hair, like he had never seen before. Every time he tried to shake away the thoughts of innocence and replace them with the cruel cold image of an Imperial conqueror. He felt the pair of violet eyes fall over him from the first moment and the rest of the night, but he never pulled his gaze up to stare back at the other. All the moments he would smile politely, shake or nod his head. But he never dared to gaze back. During that night Yao was Ivan's personal servant. He served the food, poured the wine, laughed at small graceful Russian words, blushed, and smiled. When the time had come he actually performed a small dance, making him look more desirable than before.

"Take me to your bedroom; I'd like to have some privacy with you." The Asian's eyes widen in surprise has the needy low voice pierced through him. He knew he had to please every desire from the Russian, but that would be too much. Almost no one was allowed in his bedroom; almost no one was allowed to touch him even. His heart skipped a beat when he took his time to answer and Ivan placed his hand over the Asian's. Yao gazed down at their hands, a sudden cold invading him, though it was winter he felt a death cold taking over his body. Frowning, he pulled his hand from under Ivan's, finally driving his gaze to meet the Russia's needy stare. "No… the night ends here." The answer didn't please the Russian, naturally, but still with a very calm face, he asked again to be taken to the privacy of Yao's room. "You must remember, that you have to attend all my wishes, if not then it's the same as declaring a war to me. " The elegant Asian immediately felt trapped. No other choice. It was either his body being sacrificed, or sacrifice all his people in order to preserve his honor. He winced a little against the table as if he received a small nudge, and drained out of his life, he simply answer the Russian. "Follow me."

The Forbidden City was magnificent, beautiful even at moonlight of the cold winter. Yao walked peacefully through the golden streets of the city, with a cold shadow behind him, a shadow he couldn't escape from. Passing by the many guards of that fortress, Ivan and Yao reached the Asian's private dorm. Before walking in Ivan, that had brought a guard along with him, he whispered softly. "No one gets in, and no one gets out, and no matter what you hear, don't open the door." The guard nodded obediently and, with a childish smile, Ivan entered the room. Yao cornered himself in his own room, kept a good distance to avoid any physical contact, even though he knew it was worthless, sooner or later it would happen. Heavy footsteps made the Asian's eyes widen in the direction of the sound as he rested his hand over the beauty table, and the other one motioning toward Ivan. "D-Don't…." Ivan stopped and tilted his head to the side with a curious expression on his face. "Don't worry. I will not hurt you like the others did, because I love you, I've loved you for a long time, and all I want is your safety, that's why you must stay with me, Wang Yao." Yao looked up taking in a deep breath; he tried the read in those violet eyes, anything that remembered him the innocence and the adoration of the little Ivan Braginski he used to know. But there was nothing, not even a trace of it, if there was at least a little hint of that boy who used to cling to his legs asking for solace… then Yao wouldn't be so frighten. Ivan was closer and closer and Yao had nowhere to run, he let himself be an easy prey, it wouldn't be so painful that way. He tried to believe.

The Russian started his dance, walking behind Yao, smelling and admiring, taking his time to slowly seduce, or try to seduce the uneasy Asian. All he ever wanted was there right before his eyes. His hands rose up on the other's shoulders, pulling the fabric away to show the milky white shape of the skin. Yao shifted nervously away, frowning and struggling, to not be so easily touched. But it was all in vain, Ivan immediately wrapped an arm around the thin waist trapping him like a weak prey. Yao cursed how weak he found himself on that moment, with the fall of his empire; he cursed the fact of how he couldn't even push away a nation from abusing him, a nation once so much weaker than him.

The sound of fabric shifting and small whines filled the room together with a mix of fear and desire. Without even realizing, Yao was under the heavy, cold Russian on top of his large bed, small arms struggling to pull away, soft lips whining for his freedom, yet the cold grasp of the Russian was too much for a fallen empire fight against. The small prey knew and understood the other's intentions, after all Ivan did help him fight against his brother, he did his best and now, he only seek for a reward. To take and possess the Asian's body. Ivan Pulled the heavy belt off him together with his musket and all the weapons it hold, and gazing down he found Yao with his back turned to him, pushing against the bed, restless still fighting against it, weakly. Tired from the useless struggling, Ivan pinned the thin wrists against the bed. "Stop it. It will be less painful if you just let yourself go…" Leaning his lips upon the pale skin of Yao's back he trailed sweet gentle kisses against it, hungry kisses. "You'll end up enjoying it." Yao wiggled again in the Russian's strong hold, stiffen and pulling his wrists free. "You may take my body… you may take my soul…" His tiny voice shivered. "…but you will never have my respect…and love. I will never belong to you, you beast."

The words ache like daggers though Ivan's heart, it hurt the Russian. There was no nation as lonely as he was; even though he tried no one else seemed to understand him. It wasn't a language barrier, Ivan was simply always despised and ignored, and once again, the love of his life, the only nation, man, person that ever shown him affection, broke his heart by using those cruel harsh words. But he didn't shed any tears; he didn't curl up and felt sorry for himself. No. Ivan was a proud Russian, the land that born from the cold snow, and grew to be an Imperial nation everyone feared, yes, they feared his strength, that's why they always ran away. He wasn't ignored… he was feared. Ivan pulled both Yao's thin wrists up and pined them down with only one hand; it would be enough to take down the weak China; his free hand pulled Yao's chin up and turning it to himself, shifting to lean right over Yao, caressed and touched the perfect cheekbones, the nose and the lips and finally crush both their lips together, Yao closed his eyes and several times he tried to pull away, always with no success. The Russian ravished all he could with his lips and tongue, he sucked all the life out of Yao, licking the small lips, the sweet tongue, he bit down and gently pressed again his cold lips, passionately, like a real mad man in love. Yao always tried to squirm away; whines and screams left his throat as he gazed at the other with no love at all only anger and hate. But young and frustrated, Ivan wouldn't simply give up like that, he had Yao powerless under him, he would have him, the hard way or the easy way. Pulling on a small sash he quickly Yao wore to tie his vests around his waist, Ivan wrapped both the Asian's wrists together and to the pole of the bed, keeping him from moving. Yao gasped has he heard the expensive clothing rip, cursing the other in the many dialects of his tongue. But he did not cry. Yao was also a proud old nation, which hardly would lose his habits, his traditions and costumes, and hardly would let a Russian man invade him in such ways.

After tasting the half naked body in front of him, Ivan could only do what he waited for, pulling away all the under clothing from the Asian, he easily now unzipped his pants; the sound making Yao more and more nervous as he felt his body cold and exposed, he blushed in anger and embarrassment, tears starting to form on the corner of his eyes. "You don't want to do this…think about it… just…j-just…stop…stop it, I don't want this… don't want this…" It was hard now for Yao to form sentences; everything came out in stuttering and shaky voice, fear taking over him. Ivan didn't stop; he kneeled behind the exposed figure of Yao and pulled his gloves off his large cold hands, pulling one down on the Asian's body, softly touching the tender entrance, rubbing with his index, ignoring the pleas from the man under him. "I'll be much better than the others, oh Yao… I'll be so gentle and tender to you, and then you'll realize how much I desire you, how different from the others I am!" Lost in all the lust, Ivan was mad and eager. Leaning down again over the bending Asian, Ivan pushed his finger inside him, feeling the warmth around it. Yao cried out loud, and even thought it wasn't painful just yet, it was a very uncomfortable feeling, he tugged again at his tied up wrists, screaming for release, but never begging for it, as a proud nation he is. Ivan would softly try to calm him down, kissing the exposed flesh, of his shoulders and back, wiggling his finger in and out the Asian's body. His cheeks blushed and he pulled a happy smile, closing his eyes. It was even better then he pictured, perfect. He was warm and small, and in Ivan's head they just seemed to fit perfectly. Quickly a second finger was inserted and then Yao cried for pain. He felt himself being ripped open, as a scream was pulled from his throat, the tears gathering at the corner of his eyes, finally spilled, rolling down his cheeks. Ivan was more and more pleased, for him, the screams of pain and horror from Yao were moans of adoration and need, and if Yao needed more, Ivan was willing to give him so much more. The Russian's fingers inside his body were moving faster and faster, and on the back of his head, Yao felt a little pleasure feeling, pulling him further down into darkness, dragged with the possessive Russian into an insane mental state. Finally tired of the play, Ivan pulled his fingers off the Asian's body, causing Yao to gasp sharply for air, desperately trying to scoot away from Ivan, but the Russian kept a strong hold around the thin waist. Eager now, Ivan pulled his own member from inside his clothing rubbing it against the other's entrance. It was so close, he could even anticipate the feelings yet to come, and pleasured sounds escape his lips as pearly drops of pre-cum gathered at the tip of his member. The Asian's entrance was slippery and wet, and Yao cursed Ivan over and over again in his native language, he hated him so much he that he would cut the other's throat if he could, right on that moment.

"Ahh! N-no! Geh!...Get out!" A pained scream ripped from Yao's throat, in his tights he could feel a warm liquid dripping down. Did the Russian released already? As he tilted his head down to peek between his legs he saw his own blood dripping on the white sheets. Ivan had already pierced Yao, ravishing his flesh, entering him with no pity, only his pleasure and lust was visible in his pleasured expression. Ivan was happy, truly happy now that he finally claimed the Asian for himself. "Hnn… you really… Yao, ah! This is even better then I imagined you feel amazing, so warm, oh… so tight." Yao's legs shiver, he was weaker by every word from the Russian's lips, he couldn't find in himself anymore strength to fight, and he faded away in the strong arms, letting the other do as he pleases. Stroke after stroke the Russian pleasured himself, the blood mixing with sweat and the pearly cum released by both of them. Yao found himself gasping and panting of pleasure, though, all the tears he released were tears of pain and embarrassment. He didn't like this, and out of everyone that so far abused him, he felt Ivan specially obsessive over him, it ache on his heart, it ache through all his body, and soul. Gently Ivan kissed Yao's shoulder, trailing one of his hands along the naked arms, undoing the knot keeping Yao from moving. Softly with his other hand, Ivan pulled Yao into a sitting position, still on top of himself, yet again Yao gasped sharply, feeling all of the hard member inside of himself, he thought his tiny frame would rip in two, but Ivan eased the pain stroking harshly the Asian's member, pumping it up and down fast and hard, and Yao couldn't suppress his moans and pants of pleasure, through it ache him so much to be invaded that harshly. His precious forbidden city. "Sto..stop… " He tried even tired and powerless he tried to stop him, but Ivan was so close to the end, both his hands buried on Yao's hips forcing him to trust down on himself…one more….and another…

He released his love and seeds inside the other, the tired smaller body falling on top of the bed, gasping desperately for air, breathing heavily. Ivan leaned closer, pulling Yao gently off of him and setting him in a comfortable position. He saw a tired face; he saw misery and a hint of hatred in those fired up eyes. And then his heart ache again…his brows furrowed as he realized how rushed and brute he was. Wang Yao didn't want him, China didn't want him, he wasn't a savior but another idiot western who wanted that land, nothing else. The breathless Yao kept gazing up at the other, hatred filling his eyes, as he took his last effort to try to pull away as far as possibly from the tight grasp. No, Ivan couldn't let things like that, he really liked Yao, not China, Ivan wasn't there for the land, he was there to have Yao's heart, to have his love, and after everything he only got hatred back. He leaned down, Yao opened his eyes scared of the next move, starting to push the other away with his hurt wrists, Ivan seek for the Asian's lips, and left a small peck on them. "I'm sorry." He whispered. After that, Yao was left hurt on the bed, to never see the Russian again after a week.

After that week, Ivan still regretted what he did, he felt his heart aching again and again, every time Yao's strong eyes came to his mind. Yes he had him, but at what cost. Now Yao was just another nation that feared him, hated him, and ignored him. When his boss ordered him to get ready for the travel Ivan actually thought about what to say to Yao next time. He left without even saying goodbye, without looking behind. For him it was an act of fear, he wasn't even able to face those fierce eyes with the passion and strength of a whole nation, and the hatred, a hatred he didn't want. After that day, when Ivan returned home he tried to convince his boss that maybe China was not a good idea, an argue spring from their small talk, leading to Ivan being forced to visit Yao every week now. He didn't want to. Not that he didn't want to meet the love of his life again, simply because he was scared of being looked upon with those fired eyes, filled with hatred. He didn't want to be hated by the only person who ever show any emotion for him.

"The same thing this week, Ivan. The nation is all yours, show no mercy." His boss whispered as they run through the hallways of the Forbidden City. Ivan simply nodded in consent, feeling a deep sadness in his cold heart. Small maids and eunuchs leading them to the place where their majesty rested together with their nation. Ivan's heart beat faster and faster as they walked by, already feeling the warm presence of Yao in the city. He fiddled with his gloves, looking down in shame of what he did the past week, knowing now that he had to do it every week against his will.

A few more steps and they reached and main room. In the middle throne the emperor of China was sitting, resting his head against his hand, looking the Russians with hatred. Right beside him, in a smaller throne, Yao was resting, beautiful and pure like always, his eyes were gentle and soft and a small welcoming smile slowly spread across his lips. Ivan felt his heart skip a beat when he saw the softness in Yao's face. He didn't look mad, or sad, or even in a rage for the Russian, no. He was…Yao, the Yao he meet on their first date, that Yao he loved so much. And so, the night was carried away, the dinner, the celebrations, everything was cherish and warm again, even Yao seemed to be more flowing and given to the Russian, he danced closer to him, he served the wine caressing him, and he even smiled gently at him and laughed again and again. Everything seemed like a lie. It was then that Ivan grasped Yao's hand and without any words, he pulled him away from the party, dragging him outside. Yao felt a sudden pain through all his body, he thought that the Russian came to the part where he was bored and all he wanted was to take him down again. But this time, Yao wouldn't resist, it would honestly hurt him more, and…for that night, he did belong to Ivan, so there was nothing he could do.

The night was cold, winter had arrived to China's land also, and small flocks of snow gently fell down. Ivan didn't say a word, he kept pulling Yao by his wrist, the poor Asian only stumbled on the way, his brows furrowing in curiosity. They pass by Yao's room and didn't stop, just carried on where no guards, no maids, no one could see them. And it was then that Yao decided to raise his voice, higher than his curiosity. "Wait! Where are you taking me? That was my room right there!" But Ivan didn't answer; he took the flowing, small body to a secret garden, lights of candles resting on the cold stones, warming the freezing air of the night. It was there, where Ivan stopped, releasing the thin wrist and walking a few steps from the Asian. "I wanted to be alone with you…" He finally spoke, breaking the silence between them. "I'll never take you against your will, Wang Yao." Then he turned to Yao, and gave him a sweet gentle smile. "I apologize for my rudeness, you don't deserve such treatments." Yao's eyes widen at the sudden confession, still confused and worried, he looked up at him, silently listening, feeling small, cold, flocks of snow falling on his warm face. He wanted to speak and tell him everything was alright, but it wasn't, he knew it wasn't. Both empires were in danger, both nations were suffering, and all they had right now, was a small moment, a shared cold night, with the sound of Chinese instruments that kept playing in the party, even though they weren't present anymore. Right there no one could see them, no one could blame them. They were two humans for that moment, nothing more. Ivan walked closer to Yao, giving a hand to him. "Dance with me, our last dance as we are now." Even though Yao was still very suspicious toward the Russian, he took the hand, very slowly, squeezing it not in fear but curiosity. "Yes…" he managed to whisper, as the Russian pulled the slender body close to himself.

Yao was used to now the western traditions, he had to learn the many dances and costumes from the Europeans, so it was easy for him to follow Ivan's lead as he started to move from one side to another, slowly, making the Asian's vest flow as if he was flying. Yao's expression was worried still, looking up in curiosity, not understanding the sudden change of heart on the Russian. Ivan looked down upon his love, worried about him, worried about both of them. Would they disappear from here on? Would they meet in another life? No words were exchanged, as the dance carried on, they silently enjoyed the night and each other's solitude. T felt magical, it felt unique, as if they were alone in the world.

In the passion of the moment, Ivan leans down, pressing his lips gently against Yao's, the Asian answering back, closing his eyes to that cold, but heart melting gesture, for no other nation that abused him would kiss him like that, would kiss him at all. And they danced all night, at the sound of their hearts.


End file.
